


Sick Day

by FountainPen



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Sickfic, max is sick but he doesn't want to admit it, max tries to play it off but it doesn't work jgjgj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FountainPen/pseuds/FountainPen
Summary: Max is never sick, he just doesn't get sick. Except when he does get sick.





	Sick Day

Maxwell Puckett was no stranger to injuries, broken bones and scraped knees were a part of life when half of your life was spent flipping and jumping from things that were not meant to be flipped or jumped from, and the other half was spent battling the aggressive spirits that plagued Mayview.

 

Max had a scar on his left shoulder described by Johnny as a “sick-nasty punk mark” that he’d earned by cutting his shoulder on some rocks, and it later being reopened by a spirit shaped like a tiger and a bear at the same time.

 

Either way, Max was used to being injured, but being  _ sick _ was another thing. Maxwell Puckett didn’t get sick. Ever. End of story, he just refused. Sure, at the moment it felt like there were fire ants in his throat, and maybe his head hurt, and his stomach ached and it felt like his skin was being flash frozen and melted, but that didn't count as sick. Max never got sick.

 

This is why he trudged to school, backpack heavy on his shoulders. His dad had asked Max if he wanted to stay home the night before, but he was going to pick up some things from his friend out of town that morning and wasn’t there to insist his son stay in bed. Max grabbed some cold medicine and was on his way the next morning. Bones aching and head pounding.

 

The school was almost worse than the walk itself. Every raised voice now echoed in Max’s already throbbing head as he slunk into the empty clubroom and nearly collapsed on the couch.

 

“Mr. Spender! The spirit tooled up!” Ed shouted as Isabel kicked down the door wielding a mop. Max groaned and curled around his backpack. “Uhhh- Max?” Max hazily sat up, a shiver running down his spine.

 

“Mmyeah?”

 

“You look like garbage,” Izzy said, tossing the mop onto the table.

 

“Gee, thanks.” Max snapped. Max curled back up in the couch and tightened his hood.

 

“Sorry dude,” Ed said. “But you do in fact look like death.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“Max, you’re sick, go home.”

 

“M’not-” Max hacked out a cough. “Not sick.” Before Isabel or Ed could respond, Mr. Spender and Isaac arrived as well.

 

“Uh… Is he okay?” Isaac asked and peered at Max.

 

“He’s sick,” Ed said.

 

“No.” Max protested weakly. “I don’t get sick.”   
  


“Max, would you like me to call home? You’re obviously not fit to attend classes.”

 

“M’fine! I’m not sick!” Max said.

 

“Max, you’re sick,” Isaac said.

 

“Don’t get sick,” Max repeated. “Plus my dad’s outta Mayview till late tonight. I gotta get to class now.” Max stood up, legs wobbling like a newborn deer.

 

“Max, class doesn’t start for another twenty minute-” Isabel was cut off as Max’s knees buckled and he stumbled his way to the floor.

 

“I’m good, I just tripped,” Max said. Mr. Spender glanced down at Max worriedly before striding to his desk and making a phone call as the rest of the Activity Club helped a grumbling Max back to the couch. “Class’s starting soon, guys.”

 

“Max, you can stay in the club room until after school,” Mr. Spender said. “You’ll only feel worse if you try to overexert yourself.”

 

“I’m fiiine-”

 

“Max, no offense, but shut up,” Isabel said as she returned Max’s fallen hat.

 

“I can get him home after school,” Isaac said. Isaac’s parents were actually in town for a few days, so he was getting a ride to school rather than the bus or his shortcut.

 

“Get some sleep or something Max,” Ed said.

 

“I need- I gotta get to class!” Spender put a hand on Max’s shoulder to keep him from standing.

 

“I’ve already let the faculty know you won’t be attending classes, Maxwell.” Mr. Spender said. “Get some rest and Isaac will be by to get you after school.

 

“M’still not sick.” Max mutter, curling back up on the couch. A couple of “feel better!”’s and an “if you try to leave I’ll punch you!” Were thrown at Max before the room went quiet once again. Max adjusted his backpack under his head and willed himself to sleep.


End file.
